


Can't You Hear that Echo?

by MeriwetherLeww



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, MorMor Parentlock, Parentlock, parentmor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 14,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeriwetherLeww/pseuds/MeriwetherLeww
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty has made a decision; he wants to be a father. And after keeping a close eye on his enemy, Sherlock Holmes, he's come to like the personality of twelve-year-old Echo Holmes. Quiet, nerdy, and intelligent, Moriarty has decided that he would like to finish raising this child. He just wants to make sure he does it right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As Echo woke up, she felt pounding in her head.  Her neck hurt, and a seatbelt rubbed against her chest.  Her blue eyes fluttered open.  She saw the road zooming past her out the window.  She looked over to see who was driving and her heart stopped.  
  
Jim Moriarty glanced over at her and smiled.  "About time you woke up, Kitten," he greeted.  "Don't worry, we're almost there," he added as if she had asked.   
  
He started drumming a small beat on the steering wheel as a building rapidly approached.  He reached towards Echo, and her breath caught in her throat.  He reached into the glove box and pulled out a pistol.  Echo could feel her heartbeat in her ears.   
  
The car pulled to a stop in front of the building.  Moriarty climbed out of the car and walked to the passenger's side.  He opened the car door with a creul grin.  Echo's breathing was heavy.  "Come on, don't be shy."  She avoided looking at him as she shook her head.  "Don't make me cross, dear," he demanded, his voice a frightening sort of calm.  He reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt; she refused to budge.   
  
He took her wrist and pulled her from the car.  She yelped and tried to pull back, but was unsuccessful.  He slammed the door shut and growled, "let's go."    
  
He led her into the building, the gun pressed against her back.  When they entered the building, the strong smell of chlorine hit Echo.  Moriarty gave an irritated sigh.  "Seb should be here by now."  He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed in a number.  "Hey, where are--yes, I miss you, too--where are you?"  He paused for a moment.  "Well, so do I!" he exclaimed.  Another pause before an irritated sigh, "alright, see you soon.  Okay, yeah, love you, too.  Bye."  He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.  
  
"Take a seat," he ordered, gesturing to the wall with his gun.  Echo sat against the wall, her shaking limbs almost collapsing under her.   After about five minutes with the only sound being the swishing of water behind a closed door, Sebastian ran in, holding a decorated vest and large parka in either hand.  
  
"Hey," he greeted, leaning down and giving Moriarty a kiss.  He switched his gaze to Echo, who froze at his icy look.  "Are you ready?"  She eyed the items in his hands nervously.  "Stand up," he demanded.  Her limbs still shaking, she pushed herself up.   
  
Sebastian slid the vest that lit up with explosives around her.  She looked down at her shoes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.    
  
Afterwards he helped her slide on the parka.  "Seb, why don't you go set up  I need to talk with the littler Holmes," Moriarty suggested.  Seb nodded and walked towards the source of the swishing water.  
  
He sat down on the floor next to where Echo stood.  "Here," he pat the ground next to him, "let's discuss something, shall we?"  
  
She sat down, assuming that's what he wanted her to do.  "Now, I have an offer for you."  As he talked he pulled a small earpiece from his pockets.  "Here," he slid it into her ear.  "Can you hear me?" he asked, talking into a headpiece that he seemed to have magically pulled from the jacket of his suit.   
  
The sentence echoed in her ear.  She nodded as he continued, "when you go out there," he pointed to the doors that led to what Echo assumed was a pool, "you repeat everything I say.  Got it?"  
  
She nodded again, the tears finally spilling over her eyes and down her cheeks.  "Hey, don't cry," he put his hand under her chin and turned her head so she was looking at him.  He looked into her bright blue eyes with his deep brown ones.  "You'll be alright," he wiped some of the tears off her cheeks.   
  
After a few moments of silence, he brought the topic back to its origin, "I have an offer for you.  If you leave behind your family--Sherlock, John, Mycroft, et cetra--and come to live with me, I'll protect you."  
  
They heard footsteps out by the pool.  "We'll finish discussing this later.  Right now, you have a show to put on."


	2. Chapter 2

Being pushed onto her 'stage' with shaking legs, she heard his voice in her ear, "evening!"  
  
In turn, she repeated, "e-evening."  
  
"This is _quite_ the turn up, isn't it _Sherrr-lock?_ "  He was obviously having fun playing puppet master.  
  
"This is quite the t-turn up, isn't it, Sher-erlock?" she stuttered, putting her hands in the pockets of the parka.   
  
"What would you like me to make her say next?" his voice rang in her head.  
  
"What would you like me t-to make her say next?" She couldn't bare to look up; she didn't want to see the expression on her father's face.  
  
"Gottle-o-geer, gottle-o-geer!" he exclaimed in a sing-song voice.  
  
"Gottle-o-geer, g-gottle-o-geer," her voice cracked.  She heard footsteps behind her and felt someone rest their hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Just _listen_ to the Echo," he announced.  
  
"Don't touch her," Sherlock growled.  
  
"You are in _no_ position to be making demands," Moriarty mentioned.  Echo got herself to look up at her father.  He held a pistol in his hand and his other laid curled in a fist at his side.  
  
The two continued talking, but her mind was elsewhere.  Why had he wanted her to come and live with him?  And why was he being so calm and gently even though he had strapped her in a vest full of explosives?  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by Moriarty questioning, "have you been thinking about my offer, dear?"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sherlock hissed.  
  
She nodded her head.  "So what do you say?"  
  
"No," she was surprised that she had said anything at all.  
  
"Hmm.  Pitty," he sighed.  "Well, here's my counter-offer: you come with me anyway, and everyone gets out unharmed," he bargained.  
  
"Leave her alone!" Sherlock began making his way towards them.  Suddenly a gun went off, and a hole was left in the floor next to Echo's foot.   
  
"Come on," he ordered, taking her wrist and leading her to the doors.   
  
"No, wait!  Echo!"  Another shot.  Echo screamed and the feeling off molten liquid burning her skin ran all up and down her arm.   
  
Anger screamed in his eyes, but a cruel smile seeped onto Moriarty's face.  "Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hold still."  They sat in the backseat of the car, and Moriarty had a first aid kit.  He wrapped gauze around Echo's wound, trying to be gentle.  Echo took in a sharp breath and cringed.  "I know, I know, it burns," his voice was soothing and calm.  "There."  He finished up and climbed into the front seat.  He pulled out his phone and dialed in Sebastian Moran's number.  
  
"What the _hell_ was that?!  I specifically told you _not_ to shoot her! . . .  I would have told you had their been a change in plans! . . .  That doesn't--no, you know what?  I'll just talk to you when I get home."  He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket.  He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hands over his face.  "I need a holiday," he mentioned before starting the car.  
  
Echo could feel her eyelids getting heavy.  Her head drooped and, soon enough, she feel asleep.  
  
Moriarty looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at how peaceful Echo looked.  Her dark brown hair fell in front of her eyes and her glasses were crooked on her face.  Her mouth hung open a bit an she had curled herself up into a little ball.   
  
Seb was already home when Moriarty pulled into the drive way.  He came out of the house and met Moriarty in the vehicle.  "Could you please take her up to the guest bedroom?" he requested, "She's had a long night."  
  
Seb agreed, "Yeah, of course."  He opened the back door and reached in.  He unbuckled her and lifted her up, trying to be careful with the arm he had shot.  Looking down at her, he felt a twinge of guilt for what he had done.   
  
"She's quiet, though," Moriarty commented, walking alongside Sebastian, "I mean, almost _mute_ quiet."  Echo groaned, worry and pain taking over her calm expression.  "I think we might have to change her bandage before bed.  It's already bleeding through the bondage and gauze, but I don't want to wake her up."  
  
"Well, better wake her up then risk her getting infected or something," Seb pointed out.  
  
"I know, it's just. . ." he decided to keep his comment to himself.   
  
'What?" Sebastian wanted to know.  
  
"Nothing."  He opened the front door and added, "Just lay her down on the couch.  I'm gonna go get the first aid kit."   
  
Sebastian laid Echo down on the couch as Moriarty clamped upstairs.  Her teeth began to chatter after a few moments, becoming very cold very quickly.  Her grapped a white, fuzy blanket off the back of the chair and draped it over her.   
  
"Seb?!" he heard Moriarty shout, "where's the first aid kit?!"  
  
"Check in the bathroom!" he called back up.  
  
"I did!  It's not--oh, wait, never mind!  I found it!"  He came back downstairs with a first aid kit in his left hand.  He sat on the edge of the couch and gently shook Echo.  "Echo?  Echo, wake up."  
  
Her eyes opened slowly, like she was afraid to see her surroundings.  She looked over at Moriarty and panic seeped into her eyes.  "Hey there, sweetie," he smiled kindly at her.  We need to change your bandage before you go to bed, okay?"  
  
She looked down at her arm and her eyes widened.  Moriarty gingerly touched the gauze and she jerked away.  "We need to change it or else it's going to get infected," he reminded her.  
  
She seemed reluctant, but she held out her arm and looked down at her lap, her drowsiness not going away.   
  
He gently began removing the gauze and took off the pressure bandage.  He replaced it with a new bandage and gauze.  "There, better.  See?"  She didn't look up from her lap.  
  
He looked down at her expression and chuckled, "she's really tired, isn't she?"  He lifted her scrawny frame into his arms and began carrying her upstairs.  He pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and laid her down on the bed.  He covered her up with the blankets on the bed before kissing her forehead.  "You're going to love it here.  I promise."   
  
He left her alone to sleep in her world of vivid nightmares.


	4. Chapter 4

Echo awoke with a violent jolt.  Her breathing was heavy and her heart beat rapidly.  A nightmare.   
  
She slowed down her breathing and tried to calm herself down.  The morning light streamed in from the window.  Birds tweeted seemingly just outside the glass.  She saw a squirrely scurry across the windowsill.   
  
She went and sat on the ledge right next to the window.  She leaned her head against the cool glass and watched out the window.  They seemed to be right on the edge of a small wood.   
  
A light rap on the door interrupted the birds' chirps.  It slowly creaked open and Sebastian Moran stuck his head in.  "Hey," he greeted before stepping inside the bedroom.  "I'm supposed to change your bandage before you go downstairs and talk to Jim, okay?"  
  
 _Talk to Jim?_ she thought.  She didn't like the idea of that, but instead of saying anything  she just nodded.  He knelt down next to her and began unwrapping the gauze.  
  
"I'm sorry about this," he addressed the elephant in the room.  "But it could have been worse; I could've shot you in the head," he laughed, hoping he had broken the ice.  Instead, that just made Echo feel nauseous and uneasy.  "Sorry," he added awkwardly, applying a new bandage and more gauze.   
  
"Go on downstairs," he instructed, "Jim's in the dining room."  
  
She took her time going downstairs to the dining room.  When she arrived, she saw Moriarty sitting at the dinner table, reading the paper.  What he read seemed to amuse him.  He looked over when he heard Echo's footsteps.  "Morning," he greeted, folding the paper and laying it down on the table.  "Take a seat," he gestured to the two other chairs around the table.  Echo teetered back and forth nervously.  "Come on, I don't bite."  He motioned for her to come forward.  
  
She took a seat in the chair farthest from him.  "Now, I need to lay down some rules, okay?"  He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward.  "Rule number one," his voice was calm, "you will refer to me as father.  Or dad or pop or whatever slang you wanna. . . Hey," he stood up and knelt down next to Echo, "don't cry.  What's the matter?"  
  
She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to say anything.  "Echo," he took her hands and lowered them away from her face, "I'm not going to hurt you."  He ran his hand gently down her jawline.  He put his hand under her chin and lightly caressed her cheek with his thumb.  "I am _not_ going to hurt you," he repeated.  
  
Her breathing was unstable; she tried to calm herself down.  He moved his hand to her knee and continued, his voice soft and slow, "Rule number two: no using the phone with mine or Seb's permission."  He paused for a few seconds--a pregnant pause--to show he was moving on, "Rule number three: no leaving the house without mine or Seb's permission."   
  
He wanted to try and lighten the mood, so he added, "and rule number four: when printing something, use both sides of the paper, I'm not made out of money!"  He smiled, and Echo took that as an indicator that it was okay to giggle.  "Now that that's out of the way, are you hungry?"  
  
She kicked her feet back and forth and nodded sheepishly.  "No need to be embarrassed.  You've had a long night, there's no crime in having some breakfast."  
  
He went and opened a cabinet, ready to give her some options, and was surprised to hear her voice, "Uh. . . sir?"  He smiled lightly to himself; he liked the sound of her voice.  
  
"Rule number one," he reminded, keeping his gaze on the cabinet but turning his attention to Echo.  
  
"Sorry!" she muttered quickly, like she was afraid she had made him mad, "sorry, uh. . ." she seemed reluctant to say it, "um. . . father.  It was just, um. . ."  She felt scared to ask the question, "when can I. . . uh. . ." her voice suddenly became even more quiet than usual, "go home?"   
  
Moriarty gripped the edge of the counter and looked over to Echo.  Now she looked ready to panic.  He took in a deep breath and forced himself to calm down; he couldn't blame her for wanting to go home.  She was scared and confused, and probably still in pain from the unknown 'change of plans.'  
  
"I don't know," he answered, looking back to the cabinet.  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and he saw her relax, but she still seemed a little worried.  "I just don't know."  He scanned the items in the cabinet, "do you like Cheerios?"  He looked over and saw her nod.  He pulled down the box of cereal and a bowl.  He opened the cardboard flaps and shook some of the cereal into a bowl when a loud _crash!_ sounded upstairs and they heard Sebastian shout, "ah, _shit_!"  
  
"Oh my god," he muttered.  He quickly set the bowl down in front of Echo, handed her a spoon, and set out the milk.  "I'll be right back," he ruffled her hair a bit before rushing upstairs.   
  
"Sebastian!" he called when he arrived upstairs.   
  
"Dammit, that hurt. . . _Echo!!_ " he shouted, obviously angry at the girl for some reason.   
  
"Easy now, Tiger," Jim walked into the guest bedroom and saw Seb wiping a cut on his forehead with his sleeve.  "The hell did you do?"  
  
"Tripped over that _damned_ girl's shoes and hit my head on the bedpost."  Moriarty tried to swallow a laugh.  "This isn't funny, Jim!  I don't think she should be here, anyway!"  
  
"You liked her 'till you tripped over her shoes!" he argued.  " _You_ shot her in the arm.  You trip over her shoes and hit you head and suddenly she's the 'bad guy?'"  
  
"Why are you siding with her?"  
  
"Siding with her?  You're the one who was talented enough to trip over her shoes and hit your head on the bedpost!"  He gave an irritated sigh.  "Come here," he led him into the bathroom and pulled out some band aids.  He placed one gently on Sebastian's cut.  "Now let's just go downstairs and eat breakfast.  And play nice!"


	5. Chapter 5

Sebastian slumped downstairs after Moriarty. Echo was timidly eating her breakfast at the table. "Learn to pick up your shoes, kid," he growled.

"Yes, sir," she squeaked, "sorry, sir." She stared at her bowl as she ate, trying to avoid eye contact and conversation.

Her attempt was unsuccessful. "So how has school been, Echo?" Moriarty asked, sitting down in the chair at the end of the table.

"Fine sire--I mean, father," she corrected quickly. 

"Are you taking any foreign language classes?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Si," she tried to answer the current question and the question she assumed would be a follow up.

"¿Como esta tu?" he quizzed.

"Asi-asi. ¿Como esta usted?" she replied. 

"Bien. So I'll take it you've been doing well?"

"Si señor," she answered. Moriarty cleared his throat, looking at Echo expectantly. "Padre," she corrected.

There was an awkward moment of silence. "Do you want to watch a movie?" he asked. She shrugged, staring down at her lap. "C'mon, let's go watch a movie."

He stood up and gestured for Echo to do the same. "What do you want to watch?" They waltzed into the living room and she shrugged again. "Just pick a movie. Any movie. What's your favorite?"

"Uh. . . Alice in Wonderland?" she suggested.

"Okay, Alice in Wonderland it is," he agreed, sitting on the couch and pulling up Amazon Prime. He motioned her forward to come and sit next to him. She came and sat down, keeping her distance from Moriarty. 

He began going through the movies, and it took him a few moments to find Alice in Wonderland. "Here we go," the movie started up with Alice sitting in a tree, making a small flower ring for her cat's head. 

"You like cats?" Moriarty asked, trying to make some small talk during the movie. Echo nodded, staring at the telly, but it didn't seem like her attention was on the movie. Her eyes were distant, like she was thinking about something. 

The movie went by pretty quickly, at least from Echo's perspective. At one point she heard Moriarty lightly singing to himself 'We're Painting the Roses Red.' "Hey," she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Sebastian Moran behind them. "Jim, come on, we have to go." 

Jim looked behind him to Seb, thinking about where they had to go. "Oh. . ." he groaned, "right. Okay, give me just a minute." 

He stopped the movie and turned to Echo as Seb walked off, "we're going to have to go for a bit. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

Echo nodded quickly. While they were gone she could get a chance to either try and get out of here or call someone. "Remember, no leaving the house or calling anyone without mine or Seb's permission," he added as if reading her mind. She nodded again, but had no intention of trying to follow these rules. 

She was breaking out of this prison.


	6. Chapter 6

After the two had left, Echo first tried to open the front door. The lock wouldn't budge, and she couldn't understand why. She tried turning the doorknob, but it, too, refused to move. Why? There was no way it had been like this before they left, they had to've done something to the damn door.

Next she tried the windows. Each of them were locked with a padlock from the inside. She tried to pick the lock, and when that was unsuccessful she just tried brute force, trying to pull the padlock unlocked. That also did no good. She tried opening the windows, anyway, and they'd only open about two centimeters before being stopped by the padlock. 

Next she tried just breaking the windows. If she could just break one and run, she was home free. She took one of the dining room chairs and, her arm burning like hell, tried blasting the window open. She brought the chair back over her head, and then slammed it forward with all her might. The chair ricocheted off the window, not even leaving a scratch. "Huh?" she wondered aloud. She tried again and got the same result. She stood at a distance and threw the chair. It bounced off the window harmlessly. 

She set the chair back in its rightful place and went to try the door again. She threw her weight against it, trying to see if maybe the door had just gotten stuck. The door creaked a little, but other than that showed no sign of moving. 

"Okay," she told herself, "okay, no big deal, I'll just try calling someone." She went into the kitchen where a yellow phone with a curly cord hung up on the wall. She lifted it up to her ear. She felt a flood of relief when she heard a low, monotonic beep in her ear.

She dialed in Sherlock's number, bouncing up and down and waiting for him to pick up. After the phone rang a few times, it began beeping wildly and loudly in her ear. She dropped the phone and jumped back; she could still hear the beeping loud and clear. After the beeping went away, she quickly picked it up hopefully. "We're sorry, your call cannot be forwarded at this time. Please try again later. Good bye." The low, monotonic beep came back. Horrified, she tried to call him again. She got the same result.

Next she tried John. Then Lestrade. Then Mycroft and Molly and back to Sherlock. None of the numbers would go through. She put the phone up with shaking hands. She hit her head on the wall a couple of times, trying to channel her anger. 

She glanced over at the computer in the corner of the living room. It looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. She looked around, as if getting approval from people not there, and then walked over to the computer. She sat down in front of it and turned on the computer tower. The screen turned on and the tower whizzed to life.

A blue screen popped up with two icons. One said "Jim" with a picture of a magpie, and the other said "Seb" with a picture of a tiger. She clicked on the one labelled 'Jim,' expecting a password but none coming up. She found this strange, but didn't question it. It took a minute or two for the home screen to come up.

Echo moved the mouse and put the cursor over the Internet Explorer icon. She double clicked and a window popped open to Google. She typed in 'Sherlock Holmes,' trying to see what she could find. The first thing that popped up was John's blog. She clicked on it and found several links leading to different cases that he had typed about. A picture of him was in the upper right hand corner and next to it read, 'I am an experienced medical doctor recently returned from Afghanistan.' 

She opened another link and continued searching. She found some newspaper articles, but not a lot of pictures. She ended up finding a two pictures in about ten minutes; the one of John on his blog, and of 'Hatman and Robin.' She pulled up a word document and printed both pictures out just as she saw a car pull into the drive way.

She shut down the computer and grabbed the paper out of the printer, folding it up and slipping it into her back pocket. The door was shoved open just as Echo sat down on the couch where she had been before they left. "Were you there the whole time?" was the first thing Moriarty said to her. She nodded quickly. "You're not limited to where you want to go, you know. That bedroom you woke up in is your bedroom, you can stay in there. The only limit is our bedroom. Really, feel free to roam." 

He tossed some keys onto the coffee table. Echo stood up just as Sebastian began to head upstairs and Jim went into the kitchen to do something. She spotted a roll of scotch tape on the table and picked it up. She darted upstairs as quietly as she could and shut herself in what would now be considered her bedroom. She pulled out the pictures of John and Sherlock.

She ripped the pictures out and placed them above the bed with the tape. She stared at the pictures for a while, and she felt her heart drop. She missed her father, she missed John. She missed her Uncle Mycroft and Anthea. She missed Lestrade and Molly. 

She just wanted to go back home.


	7. Chapter 7

"Going out!" Moriarty called upstairs.   
  
Moran came clunking downstairs, asking, "why?  We were literally just out.  What could you have possibly forgotten?"   
  
"I didn't forget anything," he replied, picking up his keys, "I just want to go out for a little bit.  I'll be back in about an hour.  And would you change Echo's bandages while I'm gone?"   
  
"Why can't you do it before you leave?  You're better at comforting her than I am," he pointed out.  
  
"Just don't mention anything about shooting her in the head."  Before Seb could comment, he added, "yes, I heard that.  Not exactly a comment I'd choose to break the ice."  He shouted, "bye, Echo!" before kissing Sebastian.  "Seeya Tiger."  He pulled open the door and left the house.   
  
Sebastian crept upstairs and knocked cautiously on her bedroom door.  He pushed open the door and began, "Echo, we need to--oh."  He saw her sitting on the bed, wrapping gauze around a pressure bandage.  She turned around to face Sebastian, picking up the bloody bandage and gauze.  "Never mind, looks like you have it under control.  When did you grab that first aid kit?"  
  
"About ten minutes ago," she answered softly.  She threw out the trash in her hand and packed the first aid supplies back up. "Excuse me," she tried to slip pass Moran to go put the kit back in the bathroom.   
  
"Wait a minute," he took her shoulders and turned her back around. "What's that?" He pointed at the pictures hanging up above her bed.   
  
"Uh. . . Pictures," she answered vaguely.   
  
"Well, I get that. When did they get there?"  He walked into the room, wanting to get a closer look at the pictures.  They looked like poorly taken photos of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.  
  
"Um. . . I always carry them around with me," she lied quickly, becoming very nervous that she would get in trouble if they found out she had been on the computer.   
  
"Uh-huh," he nodded, unimpressed, "so you just carry around poorly taken pictures of your father and his flat mate that were seemingly ripped out from a piece of printer paper?"  She nodded quickly, staring down at her shoes.  "Look, I don't care if you get on the computer.  Really, it's no big deal.  Just don't lie about it, and don't print off to much stuff.  Ink is expensive, alright?"  She nodded again.  "Now go put that away and let's do something fun.  D'you know how to play poker?"   
  
"No sir."  
  
"Well, kid, today is the day you learn," he walked out of the room and shut the door.  "It's easy, trust me.  We'll just play for fun, of course.  You don't. . ." he changed mid-sentence, afraid he'd scare the kid even more if he finished with _want to see what I'm capable of when we play for real,_ "want to play me.  But I'll go easy on you, kid." 


	8. Chapter 8

"Okay, what cards do you have?" Sebastian asked.  Him and Echo sat at the dining room table, poker chips laying in the centre of the table.   
  
"Uh. . . they're all clubs," she mentioned.  
  
"That's good.  What numbers or faces?"  
  
"Five, queen, seven, six, Jack," she answered, laying down the cards.   
  
"Okay, okay, not bad."  He laid down his cards and read, "I've got one of spades, two of clubs, three of diamonds, four of hearts, and a Jack of diamonds.  So I have four of a kind, and you have a deck of three, so I have the better hand, so I win that round."  The front door opened and Moriarty burst in, holding something in his coat.   
  
"Evening," he greeted.   
  
"Evening," Sebastian called back.   
  
"What are you two up to?" he asked from the living room.  
  
"I'm teaching Echo how to play poker," he replied, gathering up the cards.  "What're you hiding in your coat?"  
  
"Nothing."  They heard something make a weird noise in his jacket and Seb gave an irritated sigh.  
  
"Jim?"  
  
"Yeah."  The weird noises got louder.   
  
"Is that a cat?"   
  
Moriarty pulled a small ball of fur from his coat, "yes."  
  
"I thought we agreed no cat!" Sebastian exclaimed.   
  
"I lied."  
  
"Why?!"  
  
"I think Echo should have a cat.  Well, in this case, a kitten," he lifted up the small tuft of fur with two dark blue eyes peering out at everyone.  It mewed loudly and started squirming in his hands.   
  
"Don't you ever listen to anything I say?" he complained.  
  
"Of course I do!  I just choose not to listen to some of it."  Sebastian threw his hands up.  "Here, Echo," he came forward and held out the kitten.   
  
"Did you set him up to this?" Seb asked.  
  
"No, sir," she shook her head.  He put the cat in her lap and it sat down, staring up at her.  It rubbed it's head against her stomach.   
  
"It's a boy," Moriarty added.  "I thought you should know.  So you could name it."  He smiled at Echo as she rubbed the cat's ears.   
  
"Thank you, father," she thanked.  "But, if you don't mind my asking, why?"  
  
"Why not?" he questioned in turn.  "Now why don't you go on upstairs?  I need to talk to Sebastian for a little bit."  She took the kitten in her hands and stood up, rushing upstairs with hear head down.   
  
 _Why?_ she wondered to herself.  _Why are they being so nice?  Why can't I hate them?_


	9. Chapter 9

Echo scratched the cat's head as she sat on the bed.  He looked up at her like he was waiting for her to say something.  "I miss home," she admitted, "but I like it here, you know?  Does that make me a bad person, Tobias?"  The cat meowed expectantly.  She sighed, "They're nice to me.  And I don't understand why.  They make sure I'm comfortable and happy here and all that, and I want to hate them, but I can't.  Is this what Stockholm syndrome is?  Or is it like a version of it?  I hate myself for liking them.  It feels like I'm not supposed to.  I miss Sherlock and John. . ."  
  
She trailed off as she realized what she had just said.  "Did I just. . ."  Tobias meowed and rubbed his head against her arm.  She gathered him up in her arms and buried her face into his soft fur.  "I just don't know anymore, Tobias.  I don't know what to think anymore.  What am I supposed to do?"  
  
The cat continued meowing and began licking her hands with a tongue like sandpaper.  She laughed a little.  "Why are they being so nice to me?  I want them to be mean to me, I want a reason to hate them.  But they're not giving me any, and I just can't hate them.  It's hard to hate someone when the don't give you a reason to.  And why does Moriarty insist on me calling him 'father?'  Like, I'm pretty sure I understand why, but I don't think I like the idea."  
  
Echo opened her mouth and yawned, covering her mouth with one hand.  "I really should go to sleep," she mentioned.  "Should I go tell them good night or something, or just lay down and go to bed?  And I haven't gotten to shower in about two days, I really need to do that," she added.  "So, where are you supposed to sleep?  Do you like sleep on the floor, or in the bed, or under the bed, or what?"  
  
Tobias waltzed off her lap and over to her pillow.  He circled the pillow a couple times before laying down next to it, curled into a ball.  "That answers that," she mentioned, sliding off her glasses and putting them on the table next to her.  "I wish sleep fixed everything, since I seem to do it all the time."  
  
She turned off the lights before climbing into bed.  "Good night, Tobias."  She laid down and drifted into an uneasy sleep, where her brain tried to sort out her questions and find answers.  
  
Moran crept slowly away from the door and down the stairs, cringing each time the stairs creaked.  "What were you doing up there?" Moriarty asked, looking up from his computer.  "You said you were going to get pyjamas on, you're in the same clothes you were in as when you went up."   
  
"I heard Echo talking to the cat," he mentioned.  "Like she was having a full conversation with it.  So I might've stopped to listen and might've found out some slightly valuable information. . ."  
  
"Like. . ." Moriarty pressed on.  
  
"Like the fact she likes it here, but she doesn't want to, the fact she likes us, but she doesn't want to.  She says she wants to go home, and--get this--she called Sherlock by his name instead of dad.  She also named the cat Tobias, but that seems unimportant right now.  She doesn't know if liking us and liking it here makes her a bad person, or if this is some sort of Stockholm syndrome or something.  She also has a theory on why you want her to call you father, but she doesn't like it."   
  
"And what was her voice like?"  
  
"Not as quiet as it has been.  Pretty confident, not so nervous and shaky.  Plus, she says she hasn't showered in about two days and needs to tomorrow.  We need to get her another change of clothes."


	10. Chapter 10

Echo woke up the next morning to something furry crawling on her face.  She heard a high pitched, " _mew!  Mew!"_ She smiled a little to herself and lifted the kitten off her face with one hand.   
  
"Morning Tobias," she greeted.  She set him down on the bed as she climbed off.  She saw a grocery bag next to the door with a note on it.  It read:  
  
                                                         _Dear Echo,_

  
                 _Here's another change of clothes for today.  You know where the bathroom is.  Towels are in the_  


                                                       _closet, bottom_ _drawer._ _Meet me_ _downstairs when you're ready._  
                                                      - _JM_  
                                                      _P.S-I hope you like_ **The Hobbit**

She opened the bag and pulled out a white shirt with an airbrush painting of a red dragon on it.  At the bottom it read _Smaug._ The pair of jeans she pulled out had holes at the knees and frays in various places.  "See, Tobias?  See what I mean--"  She spun around and saw the kitten clawing at the comforters on the bed.  "No!  No, Tobias!"  She lifted up the cat and flicked him on the nose.  "Don't scratch the comforters!" 

She set him on the floor and said, "I'll be back in a couple minutes."  She walked out of her room and into the bathroom.  She got the first aid kit ready for when she got out of the shower and set the clothes on a stool next to the sink. 

"You think she's up yet?" Moran wondered aloud over breakfast.  He bit into a piece of toast and jam as they heard the upstairs shower start.

"I think that answers that question," Moriarty answered, taking a forkful of scrambled eggs.

"How do you think she'll react to your offer?" he asked.

Moriarty smiled to himself, "I think she's going to love it."

After about ten minutes, they heard the shower turn off and the door open.  The stairs creaked lightly as Echo slowly made her way downstairs.  She entered the dining room with her hands in her pockets.  "Morning," Jim greeted.  "Hungry?"  She shook her head.  "Are you sure?"  She nodded.  "Alright," he sighed, but he seemed unimpressed.  "Go ahead and have a seat, I need to talk to you."

She sat down in the empty chair between Moran and Moriarty.  "Now," he set his fork down on his plate and leaned back.  "I have an offer for you."

Echo paled slightly at the thought.  She hadn't liked the idea of his last offer, nor his counter-offer.  "Don't worry, I'm almost positive you'll like it," he assured.  "Look, Seb heard you talking to the cat last night.  You miss John and Sherlock?"  The girl nodded again.  "Well, I can arrange a short meeting between you and Sherlock if you'd like.  Just a short one, though.  Maybe about fifteen minutes.  I will, of course, be keeping an eye on the meeting to make sure nothing goes wrong, but you can assure him you're okay and that nothing's going wrong or whatever.  You just have to promise you'll listen to me and come back when you need to.  Understand?"

"Yes, father, th-thank you, father.  When?  Will it be any time soon?" she stuttered excitedly.

"Quite soon.  I plan sometime tomorrow will work well?" 

She nodded excitedly, her eyes lighting up, "yes!  Yes, that works very well, father.  Thank you, father."

"You're welcome, Echo." 


	11. Chapter 11

"So Echo," Moriarty began over dinner.  They were having macaroni and cheese with sausage, "I never was able to figure out, who is your mother?  It's hard to imagine Sherlock with anyone in that sort of relationship."  
  
Echo, who was eating fine before that, started poking at her macaroni noodles; she had suddenly lost her appetite.  "I don't know," she admitted.  
  
"What, so did Sherlock just go and get funky with someone and ended up with you?" Sebastian asked.   
  
Moriarty threw him a look as Echo continued, "no.  No, he didn't."   
  
"So was he married or something?" Moriarty asked.  
  
"No.  It's. . . it's a complicated story," she admitted.  Both men gave her expectant looks, waiting for her to explain.  She sighed and set down her fork, as if she was getting ready to tell a long story.  "I'm what some people refer to as a test tube baby.  A scientific experiment.  I had no 'vessel,' as I call it.  I had no mother who carried me for nine months.  Scientists wanted to see if they could create a child without actually being inside the womb.  They combined donated sperm with donated eggs, trying to create life without a vessel.  After hearing about this experiment and finding out he wasn't allowed to help, dad decided to donate to help in a different way.  They had twenty test subjects; three were successful.  I was one of the three.   
  
"They decided that my birthday was when I could finally breath on my own: Christmas Day of 2001.  Same day as the other two.  They raised me at the lab.  They gave me books to read, and I got to play with the other two kids--they were both boys--so it wasn't to bad.  After six years they had to send us home, to our biological parents.  One of the boys, Peter, ended up with both of his biological parents.  Turns out they donated after finding out that the woman would not be able to carry a child.  They were thrilled to find out they now had a child of their own.  The other boy, Apollo, ended up in an orphanage somewhere in New York.   
  
"I was close to having to go to an orphanage.  They lost my information somewhere in the computer system and couldn't find my parents.  The day they were supposed to send me off with Apollo, they found just one of my parents.  So they just put me in a car and surprised my dad with me.  I never saw those scientists nor those other test tube babies again after that."   
  
Moran and Jim stared at Echo in awe.  "And they never found out who your mother was?" Sebastian questioned.  
  
"Never.  At least, not that I've heard of.  If they have they never got word out to me.  Uncle Mycroft still searches for her occasionally."  
  
There was a long moment of silence after that as Moriarty and Moran tried to fathom the story they had just heard.  "Come on," he stood up, taking his plate and putting it in the sink.  "Let's go call Sherlock, shall we?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Here," Moriarty handed her his cell phone. "Go ahead. Call him." She took the phone with trembling hands and pulled up the dial pad. She began dialing in the number, glancing up at him every now and then.

She held the device up to her ear, overjoyed at the ringing tone she heard. "Hello?" an impatient Sherlock answered. Papers rustled and the sound of someone violently clicking away on a keyboard sounded in the background. 

Echo smiled, "dad?" Her voice cracked, "dad, it's me." The papers and keyboard stopped. There was almost dead silence on the other end. "Dad? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Echo, I'm still here," he answered, his voice soft. 

"Look, dad, we can meet up tomorrow," she announced. "At 2:30 tomorrow afternoon, in the old Hendrickson building. We can go and talk, isn't that exciting?" She tried to get him to say something; him just breathing into the phone was starting to freak her out.

"Yes, sweetie, oh thank god," the sound of a pen on paper was heard in the background. "Yes, that's brilliant. Have they--"

"Any questions you have can be asked at Hendrickson tomorrow," she stated what Moriarty had demanded her to say if he began to go off topic and start another conversation. "Bye, daddy."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Echo. And don't worry, we'll find you, I promise. I--" Moriarty took her forearm and gently lowered her hand away from her ear. He took the phone and hung up. His expression was hard to read--sadness? Bitterness? Angriness? She couldn't tell. 

"I think you should go to bed," his voice was deadly. His sudden change in mood was enough to scare her, and the tone of voice wasn't helping. Why did he sound so negative? Had she done something wrong?

"Did I say something I sh-"

"Now!" She leapt up from her seat on the couch and bounded upstairs. Moriarty was left to calm himself down after his sudden mood swing. 

He shouldn't have allowed her to make the phone call. He should have known what she would say and how she would say it would upset him. But what did he expect? She's not going to treat him like that. She'll probably never treat him like that. He shouldn't be mad at her for talking to her father like any scared little girl would. But still, he felt something boiling inside him, knowing that this quiet, nerdy little kid would probably never feel like a daughter to him. He tried to be a fatherly image, but he still wasn't sizing up. Just give it time, he told to himself, everything takes time. 

He first had planned to take Echo away because she was Sherlock's pressure point. Now she was his.


	13. Chapter 13

"What was that all about?" Sebastian stepped into the living room with an apple in his hand.  Moriarty was silent as he stared forward with a blank expression.

"Come on," he sat down on the couch and handed him the apple.  "Spill it.  I'm all ears."  Jim rolled the apple around in his hands, picking up a pen knife off the table and beginning to draw into the apple.  "I brought it out here so you could eat it, but that works, too." 

He threw him a look and started, "I shouldn't have let her make that call."

"Why?  What did she say?"

"Exactly what you'd expect a scared little girl to say to her father.  Talking to him like any child would to their parent.  I mean, what did I expect?  Have it be awkward?  Of course she'd be more comfortable talking with him than she would with me, I don't understand why it made me so mad.  I should have been the one to talk to him." 

Sebastian slipped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer.  He rested his head on his shoulder as Sebastian said, "just give it time."

The next day, Echo stayed in her room almost all day.  "What do you think she's been doing in there all day?" Moriarty wondered aloud.

"Talking to that cat you got her?  I don't know.  Maybe she's counting down the hours or something.  Who knows." 

"She hasn't even come down for breakfast," he added, glancing towards the stairs.  "Should I go talk to her?"

"I wouldn't, but that's just me.  Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn't, you won't know the problem unless you go up and ask."  But both men were almost certain they knew why she hadn't come down, _she was scared._

Neither man addressed the problem, just left it be. 

Around 2:10 they heard Echo come creeping down the stairs.  "I thought you weren't coming down all day," Moriarty mentioned.  He checked the time on his watch.  "We should be leaving soon, though.  You want anything to eat before we leave?"  She shook her head.  "Are you sure?"  Her head jerked up and down in a sharp nod.

"Alright, then.  Let's go." 

Sherlock paced an old meeting room in Hendrickson impatiently.  He kept checking his watch every minute or so, muttering small comments to himself.

The door creaked open and Echo stuck her head in.  "Dad?"  She stepped into the room and shut the door.

"Echo, my god," he knelt down in front of her.  "Are you hurt?"  He looked at her face carefully, then pulled up the sleeves of her jacket, looking for any sort of marking or bruise.  She jerked her arm away.

"I'm fine, dad," she insisted.

"How have they been treating you?  Have you been getting enough to eat?  Enough sleep?"

"Yes, I have."

"Has he. . . touched you in a way you haven't liked?"

Echo's face turned bright red with disgust.  "No, dad," she said firmly.

"Here, I want to check you for any marks-"

"No, I'm fine!"  He held her wrist and pulled her sleeve up, beginning to look for any signs of him treating her poorly.  She tried to tug away, "I'm fine!"

Sherlock looked at her wrist closely.  He ran his hand over three, thin scars on her wrist.  "When did you get these?"

"That's not important right now," her voice was shaking.

"Well, it is to me!"  He dropped her arm and stood up.  "When?  Why did you do this?  You know, if you hated it at home you could've said something!"

"Dad, please, it's not like that-"

"What's the problem at home?  We give you everything you need and almost everything you want-"

"I can't explain it!" she shouted, louder than she had ever said anything before.  "I can't explain it, it just happened, okay?  I hate myself and I don't know why!"

She had lost the want to talk to her dad.  She spun around and began to walk away.  "No, wait, Echo. . ."

"Just leave me alone," her voice cracked.  The door slammed shut.  she pulled down her sleeve and broke into a sprint, for once running towards the man who had taken her away from home.  She burst into the room where she had come from, tears streaking her face.

Moriarty turned in his chair to face Echo.  He opened his arms, not saying anything.  She slumped forward and practically fell into his arms.  He wrapped his arms around her protectively, and, to his surprise, she hugged back.  She hid her face in the jacket of his suit, letting the tears flow freely.

"I'm very proud of you," he mentioned, running his hand down her hair.

"Why?" she cried.  "I'm just a dissappointment.  A blood clott in the heart of mankind."

"Don't say that.  I'm proud of you; it takes a lot to get through depression, sweetie."  He began rocking back and forth.  "Those scars are just battle scars.  You're alive, and you're well.  You've been getting yourself to eat regularly and you've kept yourself healthy during a time like this.  That's more than enough to be proud of."

She continued crying, but her heaves were quieter than before.  He continued rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her with various words, "shh, it'll be alright."  "You're gonna be okay."  "Nothing can hurt you."  "You're strong."  "You're brave."

"You're safe with me."


	14. Chapter 14

The front door swung open. Covering her face with both hands, Echo dashed upstairs as fast as her legs could carry her. "So how'd it go?" Sebastian asked slowly, glancing up the stairs.

Moriarty sunk down on the couch and stared ahead, obviously thinking about something. "Hey, Jim?" He sat down next to him. "You alright? How bad was it?"

It was a few minutes before he answered, "it was bad on her part." 

"Oh, now, come on, it couldn't have been that bad."

Another couple minutes of silence. Seb wasn't sure he wanted to talk to him anymore; just as he was getting to head upstairs and leave Jim by himself, he began to describe what had happened, "Well, we had just arrived, and she ran off to where she was supposed to meet Sherlock. I was watching what was happening on my phone; Sherlock was pacing and mumbling to himself when she ran in. He asked her if she was getting enough to eat and enough sleep, you know, typical. 

"He asked if she was hurt. She insisted that she was fine, but he knew I was watching. He thought she was lying. So he started checking her for any marks. Cuts, bruises, anything. Well, he pulled up the sleeves of her jacket and she pulled back really quickly as if there was something she didn't want him to see.

"So he pulled her arm back, probably thinking we had done something. He pulled her sleeve back while she tried to pull away and--her wrists, Seb. . ." 

Sebastian caught on quickly. "Oh my god."

"So, Sherlock got angry, started yelling at her as if it was her fault. So she said to him--louder than I've ever heard her--'I can't explain it, it just happened, okay? I hate myself and I don't know why!' And she ran out of the room and back to where I was. I turned off my phone and slipped it into my pocket when I heard her footsteps. 

"She practically threw herself into my arms, so I tried to comfort her, just hug her and shush her and all that, and she hugged me back. So I started telling her how proud I was of her, and she just told me she was 'a blood clot in the heart of mankind.' So I tried explaining to her why I was proud of her. And I think if she's been fighting it for so long and it's gotten so bad that she feels she has to take it out on herself. . . I think we should get something to help her. I think we--"

A small sneeze from behind the couch interrupted his speech. He closed his eyes and sighed calmly. "Echo? You can come out, we know you're back there."

Echo crept out from behind the couch, staring at her feet. A soft, desperate meow sounded as well. "And grab your cat." She rushed behind the couch and grabbed Tobias. "How long were you sitting back there?"

"And when did you get back there?" Sebastian added, "I saw you go upstairs as soon as you guys got home!"

"I snuck back down afterwards," she muttered. "And I've been here ever since you started explaining what happened. I'm sorry, I'll just. . ." She pointed towards the stairs and began to walk off.

"Now, hold on," Moriarty ordered. "I want to ask you something." She stopped and slowly returned her foot to where it was before she began to walk. "Has this situation gotten bad enough that you. . . Would you like us to get you something to help?" She looked ready to refuse. "And before you say no, think about this: it's okay to get help. You've been fighting, and you've been doing a good job, but a little help won't kill you." She teetered back and forth nervously, scratching Tobias's head. 

After a few minutes of silence, she nodded. "Come here," he gestured for her to step forward. He took her hand and pulled her sleeve up. She quickly yanked her arm back and pulled down her sleeve, looking angry and embarrassed. "Just trust me." 

Sebastian moved over a little bit, giving Echo just enough room to squeeze in next to them. Sebastian held her cat for her as Moriarty took her hand and pulled her sleeve up again. "I want you to think about it like this," he gently ran his finger against the first of the three scars on her wrist, "this represents bravery. It shows how brave you've been in this fight." He moved his finger down to the second one, "this represents victory. You've defeated many things in this fight; you have been victorious." He ran his hand along the final scar, "and this final one represents something darker. It represents the demons inside that you've learned not to fight with, but to reason with." 

He pulled her sleeve down and added, "put those all together and nothing can stop you."


	15. Chapter 15

The next few days were quiet.  Echo had begun having nightmares that would wake her up every night, so she wasn't getting enough sleep.  She refused to talk about what went on in this reoccurring nightmare.   
  
On the fourth night of this reoccurring nightmare, Moriarty had gotten up to go use the restroom when he heard muffled sobs coming from Echo's room.  He stopped, turning around and heading towards her room.  He had opened the door slowly and stuck his head in.  Echo had her face buried in the pillows, trying to quiet herself down after this fourth dream.  
  
Though he had known she had been having nightmares, he didn't know it was this bad.  He made a mental note that this began the night she had gone to see her father.  He swept in and sat down on the edge of the bed.  He rested his hand on her shoulder and she looked over, tears staining her pillows and face.   
  
She had allowed herself to be wrapped up in his arms, but whenever he asked what had happened, she refused to say anything.  All she would say was, "screaming.  There was so much screaming.  It hurt my head."   
  
He stopped asking after she said that.  He rocked back and forth, tangling his fingers in her hair as she rested her head against his chest.  She seemed to be calming down and slowly falling back into sleep.  Soon her breathing evened out and her tears dried.  
  
Jim continued rocking her, afraid that if he stopped her nightmare would return.  "It'll be okay, Kitten," he whispered to the sleeping child, using the nickname he had first used when they were heading to 'the pool.'  The nickname he had originally used to frighten her, but now used to comfort her.  "You're going to be okay."  He wondered what kind of dream would turn peaceful nights into restless ones.  He hoped he wasn't the reason, but seeing as she had calmed down at the sound of his heart beat, he doubted it.  
  
But you could never leave out possibilities. 


	16. Chapter 16

On more than one occasion, Echo almost fell asleep while eating her eggs the next morning.  At one point she had missed getting the fork into her mouth and stabbed herself in the cheek with a forkful of eggs.  There were bags under her eyes and her eyelids drooped.  "Echo, I really think you should go back to bed," Sebastian mentioned.  "What's been keeping you up?" he asked, hoping that she'd allow some part of her dream to come out.  But she just shook her head and said nothing, moving her eggs around her plate while she leaned her head against her free hand.   
  
"I'll be awake in a little bit," she mentioned.   
  
"You haven't been getting enough sleep," Jim mentioned, "that's not good for you.  It can really throw you off your rocker.  Even if it's just a quick nap, you need to get some more sleep."  Echo shook her head.  He sighed, obviously a bit irritated, but he dropped the topic for right now.  "I'm going to have to leave soon.  Will you two be alright here and promise not to burn the place down?"  
  
"We were fine when you went to go pick up that cat," Sebastian mentioned, setting his fork down on his plate.  "I'm sure we'll be fine today."  He stood up and rinsed off his plate in the sink.  
  
"In that case, I'm off," he returned to the table and gave Seb a kiss.  He walked to the other side of the table and kissed Echo's cheek.  
  
"Bye dad," she waved lightly.  This departing comment was a surprise to the both of them, but they didn't say anything.  With that, Moriarty was out the door.   
  
Sebastian pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.  "You mind?" he asked.  She shook her head.  "Jim hasn't been letting me smoke around you."  Out of the same pocket he pulled a box of matches.  "Doesn't Sherlock smoke, though?"  
  
"Yes.  But most of the time--" a large yawn interrupted her sentence, "--most of the time he smokes when he can't find a case."   
  
He held the cigarette between his lips as he took in a long breath.  "How's your arm doing?" he asked, grey strings of smoke coming out with each word.   
  
"Better."  She watched the smoke dance around the room; she liked the way it looked.  She stood up and took her plate to the sink, rinsing it off before setting it on top of Jim's.  Seb did the same, putting his on top of Echo's.  The two of them migrated to the sitting room, Sebastian taking a seat on the couch and Echo sitting next to him.  
  
"You should go on ahead and take a nap," he insisted.   
  
"I'm fine," she replied.   
  
"Why are you so against this?"  He gave her a suspicious look.  She avoided looking at him, not saying anything.  "Echo, what is this dream about?  How is it so bad that it pulls you out of sleep and you don't want to go back?"   
  
"I. . . I don't know.  It just is.  I don't like it, but every time I close my eyes it's all I can see."  She shuddered.   
  
"What happens in these dreams?  What are you so scared of?"  Echo pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on her knees.   
  
"I'm scared of what I've become," she whimpered, closing her eyes as if trying to transport herself somewhere else.   
  
". . . What?"  
  
"I close my eyes and the images I see aren't the same as what they have been.  I'm scared of what I-I've become."  He put his arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her closer.  She leaned against him, pushing her legs out to the rest of the couch and holding onto his shirt as if her life depended on it.  "[A monster](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhSA9H9Iaqw)," she whispered, "I see things in my head and imagine things and they scare me."   
  
He shushed her after hearing that.  He gave her a bit of a squeeze as she slowly began to fall back into sleep, trying to convey the message of safety without saying anything. 


	17. Chapter 17

For the next hour, Echo slept tranquilly, showing signs of a nightmare only once.  Her face paled and she gasped, losing her breath and clinging onto Seb's shirt like if she let go the nightmare would get worse.  "Nothing's going to hurt you," he whispered to her.  She calmed down dramatically at the sound of his voice, "and you're not going to hurt anyone."  
  
The front door creaked open.  "Hey," Jim greeted, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"Hey," Sebastian replied.  He was running his fingers through Echo's hair as she slept.  Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath.   
  
"Finally got her to take a nap, huh?" he mentioned, sitting down on the arm of the couch.  "Should we take her upstairs?"  
  
He thought for a moment, looking down at the sleeping figure that rested her head against his side.  "No, I think it's fine."  Jim smiled and stood behind the couch, leaning forward and putting his elbows on Seb's shoulders.  
  
"Has the Tiger finally grown attached to the Kitten?" he teased, leaning to the side and giving him a kiss.  
  
His lips curled upwards into a large grin, "I suppose I have."   
  
"Were you able to find out what these nightmares have been about?" he added, looking down at Echo.  She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, a small smile gracing her lips.  Sebastian had taken off her glasses and set them on the coffee table in front of them.   
  
"A little bit.  She said she was scared of what she'd become.  Said whenever she closed her eyes, what she saw wasn't what she wanted to see.  Called herself a monster," he explained briefly.  He took her wrist in his hand absent-mindedly and rubbed her scars.  "She's not a monster, Jim, she needs to see that."  
  
"There's a lot of things kids need to see, Tiger.  She'll come to her senses, soon.  Kids always do." 


	18. Chapter 18

"This is possibly the worst idea you've ever had!" Sebastian spat.  
  
"Just take her in for some hands-on experience, it'll be fine," Jim waved off as if him suggesting Sebastian taking Echo with him on a job wasn't a big deal.  
  
"It'll be fine?! Jim, she's just a kid, I don't want her to get hurt. I'm NOT taking her on a job with me!" He shot off the couch, crossing his arms and glaring down at Moriarty.   
  
"I trust you'll be able to keep her safe. Honestly, you're such a pessimist sometimes, Tiger."  
  
"I'm not taking her on a job with me, Jim!  It's to dangerous, I'm not doing it," he crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his right leg.  "Hell, she'd probably be mortified coming anyway!"  
  
He continued to give that same calm, I-have-things-under-control smile.  "I'm sure you'd make sure she wouldn't get hurt," he mentioned.  
  
"Yeah, I can make sure a bullet doesn't come whizzing through her head," he commented sarcastically, "I'm _not_ doing that."  
  
"Yes, you are," he sighed, "that's an order.  You _will_ take her with you on a job and you _will_ let her get some hands on experience."  
  
Sebastian wasn't usually one for disobeying orders, but this was an exception.  This was crazy; there was no way he was taking a twelve-year-old girl out on a mission with him.  Jim had to be cracked.  "No."  
  
This is when his smile faltered for a moment.  "What did you just say?"  
  
"No.  I'm not taking her with me.  It's to dangerous for her and she'll just get in the way."  
  
Now Moriarty was up and on his feet. "Listen here, _Moran,_ I hired you because you were a good aim and you obeyed orders.  When did you get so stubborn?"  
  
"When you suggested I took a twelve-year-old that I actually have a liking for out on a mission.  What, are you trying to get her killed?"  
  
"I'm trying to get you to teach her how to keep herself alive."  
  
"I can do that _without_ the chance of her getting her brains blown out!"  
  
"I believe in learning from experience."  
  
"Yeah, because that's a good fucking idea!" he shouted, getting angrier by the minute.  Dammit, could Jim hear himself right now?!  "Just give her a goddamn gun and throw her into this whirlwind that you have 'under control!'  The kid would probably be shaking so bad her legs would give out!  She's just be a trembling heap on the floor!"  
  
"Not if you teach her how to protect herself!  And I didn't plan to just 'throw her into this whirlwind!'"  
  
"Really?  Then why the  _hell-"_ he slammed his fist down on the table, "-do you think it's a good idea to force her to come with me?  That's throwing her into the hurricane!"  
  
"That is _not_ throwing her in-"  
  
"Than what is it?  Pushing her towards it?  Urging her in?  You can force a lot of people into this network of yours, and you can risk a lot of people getting hurt, but _not_ her.  Honestly, _think_ a little bit, Jim!  Think about what you could possibly be sacrificing just to teach this kid what you want to!"  
  
Jim was losing his patience with his sniper.  He shot off the couch, shouting, "I have been _thinking, **Moran**!  _ What do you think I do for a living, huh?  I don't hold the gun, obviously!  And I _think_ that this timid little girl needs to learn to stand up to people, learn to fend for herself!"  
  
"You know what?  You have got to be the most intelligent yet the _dumbest_ person I know!"  
  
Moriarty had had it after that.  He would _not_ have this man calling him dumb.  Nobody called him that.  Intelligence was about all he had; without that he wouldn't have anything.  He wouldn't be anything.  He wouldn't have his sniper saying these things to him.  
  
He took the collar of his shirt and pulled him down so there noses were almost touching, "Now listen here, I will not tolerate you calling me dumb, you hear?  I will _not-"_ he pushed him back and brought a slap across his face, "-have it!"  
  
Sebastian stood there for a moment, dumbfounded.  "Than maybe," he turned to look at him, "you should quit sticking to such idiotic ideas!"  He put his hands against his shoulders and pushed him hard enough for him to fall to the floor.   
  
"Don't you put your _damned_ hands on me!" he shrieked, kicking one of his feet from under him.  He fell face-first and hit his head on the edge of the couch.  
  
He rubbed the purple bruise quickly swelling on his forehead.  He dove at Jim, shouting unintelligibly.  He had his hands around his throat, and Moriarty was attempting to shout abuse.  He kneed him in the stomach and was able to turn the tables; he rolled Sebastian onto the floor and he was on top of him.  He brought his fist back and landed a solid blow to his left eye.    
  
He swung another hit to the side of his head, forming a cut and allowing blood to flow down the side of his head.  Before he could get in another hit, Sebastian took both his wrists and held them tight enough so he couldn't move his arms.    
  
He threw him off of him and rolled over.  He struck his ribs hard enough to knock the wind out of him for a moment.  He swung his fist across his jaw and Moriarty threw his elbow into Sebastian's teeth.  "If you don't take her you're fired!" he panted, bringing a kick to Sebastian's stomach.   
  
"I have enough money to buy an island, and I'd like to see you get along without you're best sniper!" Sebastian shouted back.  
  
"No, no, no!  I said you're _fired,_ I didn't say you could _retire!"_  
  
"If you fire me you can't tell me what to do," Sebastian pointed out, laying down on the ground next to his boss.  They were both fighting for breath.   
  
"Sure I can't," he added sarcastically.    
  
There was a couple minutes of panting before he finally said, "Fine.  I'll take her.  But I swear to Christ if she gets hurt I'll kill whoever hurt her and then I'll blow your brains all over the fucking wall, you hear?"  
  
Moriarty could taste blood as he nodded, "Loud and clear, Tiger."  He smirked lightly, but his stomach dropped as he heard quick footsteps pounding upstairs and Echo's door slam.  He looked over at Sebastian.  "She saw that, didn't she?" he sighed.  
  
"Probably," he rubbed his hands over his face with a sigh, "We might want to go explain to her."  
  
"Let's give her time to calm down first."  He rolled over onto his side.  Sebastian did the same, so their noses were practically touching.  "It'll be alright, Tiger," he assured.  "Trust me.  She'll be fine."  
  
There was an abrupt knock on the door.  "I'll get it," Sebastian offered, standing up and heading towards the door.  
  
He threw his weight against the door, pulling it open to see who had come by.  He didn't know what he expected, but was surprised by who he saw.  "Hey, Sebastian.  Jim was just texting me today, I hope it's okay I stopped by.  May I come in?"  
  
Jim sat up and stared at the doorway.  "Richard?" 


	19. Chapter 19

What're you doing here, Richie?" Jim asked, approaching the door.  He was definitely glad to see his brother--he loved his brother--but he hadn't expected to see him and was surprised by his visit.   
  
"You said I was welcome to come over anytime, I decided to come and visit," he admitted, stepping inside.  Sebastian shut the door behind him.  "I was curious about this girl you were telling me about.  Echo, right?  I mean, I would like to meet my new niece."  
  
Sebastian cleared his throat, "Jim, can I talk to you in the kitchen?"   
  
Of course.  The old 'we need to talk in the kitchen because you've done something I highly disagree with' cliché.  Jim rolled his eyes and walked towards the kitchen.   
  
"What is it?" he asked as the door swung shut behind Sebastian.  
  
"I thought we agreed to not tell anybody about this!" he hissed.  
  
"Richard is always an exception, right?"  He sat down at the table, crossing his arms.  "Besides, this is his niece we're talking about."  
  
"Not exactly. . ."  
  
"Come on, who does she seem to see as more of a fatherly figure, Sherlock or me?" he questioned, "She's practically our daughter, Seb.  It's not like I wasn't going to tell Richie about it."   
  
Sebastian sighed.  "I still don't think it was a good idea to tell your brother."  
  
"What?  Do you not trust him?" Jim growled, beginning to get defensive.  
  
"Of course I trust him, I just didn't think we were going to tell anybody, and I thought that included Richard."   
  
" _Not telling anyone_ always means I can still tell Rich," Moriarty mentioned, standing up and heading back towards the sitting room.  "You're blowing things out of proportion."  
  
Sebastian mumbled something under his breath before following him back out into the sitting room, where Richard now sat on the arm of the couch.  "So?  Do I get to meet her or no?"  
  
" _Echo!"_ Jim called.  They heard her door creak open slowly and light footsteps head towards the stairs.  She padded down slowly, holding Tobias in her left hand.   
  
"Yes, da-"  
  
She stopped when she saw Richard.  She stared at him with a perplexed look, looking back and forth between Jim and Rich.  "Echo, this," he gestured to his brother, "is my twin brother: your Uncle Richard."  
  
She looked Jim up and down, then Sebastian.  Sebastian wiped the cut on the side of his head nonchalantly, as if they always fought like that.  She turned her gaze back to Richard.  "Hello."  
  
"Hi, there.  I've heard a lot about you, Echo," he mentioned.  "Is that your cat?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  Jim cleared his throat, giving her an expectant look.  "Yes, Uncle Richard."   
  
"What's its name?"  He stepped up to her and began scratching the kitten's head.  
  
"Tobias."  She held him out towards Rich, who took the cat in one hand and continued rubbing his head.  He mewed, squirming a bit in his hand.   
  
"You like it here?" he asked as the cat continued to squirm.  
  
"Yes."  She answered slowly enough to show that she was answering truthfully, but flicked her gaze over to Moriarty and Moran for a moment as if checking to make sure they had heard her and wouldn't get upset at her answer.   
  
"You seem upset," he observed, "are you alright?"  
  
"Fine."  This answer was to quick, and she avoided looking to her 'parents.'  Richard glanced over at his brother and in-law.  
  
"Seb, I need to talk to you in the kitchen," he mentioned.  He didn't really have anything to say, but maybe if they left she'd tell Richard something and maybe he'd try to comfort her a bit.  
  
They disappeared into the other room.  "What's going on?" he asked.  
  
She looked to the kitchen before answering, "I saw them fighting."  
  
Richard clicked his tongue.  "How bad was it?"  
  
"They were hitting each other.  Kicking each other.  Punching each other.  At one point I thought papa was gonna kill dad."  She stared down at her feet.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"He was choking dad.  He couldn't breath; he couldn't say anything.  His face was turning purple."   
  
"They'd never try to kill each other.  They fight like that sometimes, it doesn't mean anything.  Trust me.  They never throw anything they know the other can't handle.  Did you see Jim take care of it?"  She nodded.  "See?  Never anything the other can't handle.  It'll be alright.  They don't do that a lot.  What were they fighting about?"  
  
She shrugged, "I don't know.  I didn't hear the argument, I just saw the fight."   
  
"Well, whatever it was, I'm sure they've-" he raised his voice, "- _come to an agreement!"_ He smiled at Echo, "alright?"  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Here," he handed her back Tobias, "let's go try to find out what they were fighting about."


	20. Chapter 20

Echo came bounding downstairs, looking to the door just as it shut.  She ran towards the window, pressing her face against the cold glass just as she saw a car pull out of the driveway.  She turned around, facing her 'uncle,' who still sat on the couch.  She looked upset by the fact that Jim and Seb had left without saying goodbye.   
  
"Where did dad and papa go?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder and out the window.  A light snow was beginning to fall.     
  
"They had to go on a little. . . little business trip of a couple of days," Richard sighed, "So I'm here to keep an eye on you."  He pat the section of couch next to him, smiling, "Come on.  I don't bite."  Echo didn't want to ask what kind of 'business trip' they were going on.  She had a feeling she wouldn't like it.  She sat down on the couch next to Rich, kicking off her shoes and pulling her knees up, putting her feet next to her.  Richard began drumming a small beat on his knees.   
  
"I hope it's not to upsetting when I ask you how long you've been here?" he asked.  
  
She opened her mouth to answer when she realized she didn't know.  A week?  Two?  A month?  Maybe three?  She didn't know.  "What day is it?"  
  
"December 12."  
  
Echo's jaw dropped.  "Seriously?"  He nodded slowly.  That means she would've been here. . . "About a month and a half."   
  
"What are you excited about?  Christmas?" he asked, looking into her eyes.  He could see the twinkling of a child's excitement in her iris.   
  
"Sorta.  I'll be thirteen in two weeks and a day."    
  
Richard quickly did the math in his head.  "Your birthday is on Christmas?"  
  
" _Technically_ that's my birthday," she answered, beginning to fiddle with a loose string on her shirt.  
  
"Technically?  What do you mean technically?"  
  
Echo took in a long breath, then began to tell the story of how she came to be.  The experiments, the labs, the other kids, almost getting sent to an orphanage, and everything in between.  She left Richard in stunned silence.  
  
"Wow," he was finally able to get out after he had processed all the information, "that's  _amazing."_ She smiled sheepishly.  She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling.  The silence felt soothing and fit.   
  
Richard smiled to himself lightly, coming up with a childish idea to pass the time.  "Are you ticklish much?"  Echo nodded slowly, eyeing him suspiciously.  "Really?  Are you. . ." he ran his fingers over her stomach.  She screamed in laughter, doubling over, "sure?"  
  
She continued laughing as Richard began finding her most ticklish spots.  He began giggling as she laughed.  She was screaming in giggling fits.   
  
After a couple of minutes they finally calmed down, leaning back on the couch and taking deep breaths.  Echo leaned her head against his side, still smiling.  Richard took a blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over them.   
  
They shifted and situated so that Echo was resting on Richard, her head on his chest.  "What time is it?" she yawned.  
  
Richard checked his phone, "almost 10:30."  He wrapped his arms around her and she took a deep breath, shifting a bit.  
  
"Do you work with dad?" she questioned.  
  
"Nah," he shook his head, "I'm an actor."  
  
"Hmm," she hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, "Movie, telly, or stage?"  
  
"Stage," he answered.  She went to say something else, but he stopped her, "Just go ahead and go to sleep.  We can talk more in the morning."  She nodded, pulling the blanket closer as she closed her eyes.  Her breaths were almost in sync with Richard's.  Her head rose and fell with his chest.   
  
She had been sleeping serenely for about an hour and Richard was beginning to doze off just as his phone started buzzing, telling him someone was calling.  He reached over and picked up his mobile, answering with a sluggish, "Hello?"  
  
"Richard?"  It was his brother.  He could hear panic and fear seeping off his words.  Something was definitely wrong; this tone was foreign to his brother's voice.  "I don't know what happened, I don't understand what happened, everything was just a big blur and there was ice on the road-"  
  
"Jim, calm down," he ordered, "calm down, take deep breaths, explain to me what happened."


	21. Chapter 21

"Sebastian was driving, a-and we were talking, and all of a sudden the car just went out of control, and I couldn't see anything, but I could feel his hand on my chest, and the car flipped and I don't know how it happened.  I don't know how any of it happened.  And we need help, Richie, we need help, please."  
  
"Did you call 999?" he asked, shaking Echo awake.  
  
"Yes, I called them before you, they're not here yet, and you know how much he hates the hospital.  God, what are we going to do?"  The panic in his voice was growing.  
  
"Did you check his pulse and everything, Jim?"  
  
"Yes, I did, he's alive, but he won't wake up, he won't wake up, he won't wake up, he just won't wake up!"  
  
"Any cuts?  Bruises?  Is he bleeding?  Any broken bones?"  
  
"He's got some bruises on his head, and a cut, and I think his arm is broken, but there's not a lot of blood."  
  
"What's happened?" Echo cut in.  "Who's hurt?"  
  
Richard could hear sirens in the background.  "Jim, it's going to be okay."  
  
"What about Sebastian?"  Richard had never heard his brother sound so desperate.  His voice was a whimper.  
  
"He'll be okay," he promised, "Just let the paramedics do what they need to do."  He held the phone up to his ear with his shoulder and began slipping on his sneakers.  "Tell them you're the spouse, they should let you ride with him to the hospital."   
  
"Who's going to the hospital?" Echo asked, her worry growing.  
  
"Alright," his voice was shaking, "okay, alright."  
  
"I'm going to hang up now, Jim.  I'll meet you at the hospital.  Do you know where they're going?"   
  
"Uh. . . London Bridge Hospital."  
  
"Okay, I'll see you there Jim.  And remember, don't panic and _stay calm._ He'll be alright."  He lowered the phone and hung up.  
  
"What's happened?" Echo asked again.  
  
Richard sighed, not knowing if he should tell her or wait for Jim to explain.  "There. . . uh. . . Jim and Sebastian were in a car accident.  The injuries weren't to severe, but Sebastian. . . Sebastian won't wake up.  He's still alive, just not. . . not awake.  So they're taking him to the hospital."


	22. Chapter 22

Richard was speeding on the way to the hospital.  "Your jacket have a hoodie?" he asked Echo.   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You better put it up, keep your head down, less chance anybody will recognize you."   
  
She wanted to ask, _But won't they recognize dad and papa?_ But she didn't say anything; she didn't feel like now was the time to be asking questions.  She pulled up her hoodie and stared out the window.  
  
She could see the hospital coming up.  She put her fingers on the car door and started tapping out a nervous rhythm.  They pulled into the parking lot just as his phone began to ring.  He lifted it out of the cup holder and answered it, climbing out of the car as he did, "Hello?"  
  
"He's awake," he heard Jim laugh into the phone.  "He's awake, Richie, he's awake!"  Richard let out a sigh of relief.   
  
"What?" Echo asked.  
  
"He's awake," he announced to the child happily.  Her face lit up at the words.  "How's he doing, Jim?"  
  
"Great, absolutely _great!"_ he had never heard his brother sound more relieved.   
  
"Okay, we're right outside, we'll see you guys in a couple of minutes.  Seeya, J-"  His phone beeped three times, indicating that Jim had already hung up.   
  
Echo and Richard exchanged glances.  After a moment Echo squealed and ran forward into her uncle's arms.  "He's gonna be okay," she sighed, laughing, "He's gonna be okay!"  
  
"You really think something as silly as a car accident is gonna get Sebastian?"  He kissed her cheek, then pulled her back into a hug.  "You really do love them, don't you?" he mumbled, his eyes closed.  
  
"Yes," she nodded a bit, "Yes, of course I do."  
  
Upon entering the room, Echo headed over to Sebastian, leaning forward and engulfing him in a hug.  He gave a sharkish smile, wrapping his good arm around her.  "Don't scare me like that," she ordered, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.  
  
"It won't happen again," he promised, "I swear."   
  
"Please tell me you have a plan and thought about the fact that you're wanted for kidnapping," Richard whispered to his twin.  
  
"You underestimate my computer skills.  I was able to get onto my phone, hack some things here and there, and so if they ask we've got different a backup for our names in the computer system."  Richard smiled.  He learned quickly to not underestimate what he could do.  "I'm Augustus Brook, you're Richard Brook, Sebastian's John Waters, and Echo is now Delaney Brook-Waters."  
  
"Are you okay, dad?" Echo looked to Jim.  
  
"Just a bruise from the seatbelt, Kitten," he assured, lifting up part of his shirt to reveal a purple and blue bruise.   
  
"When will you get to come home, papa?" she switched her attention back to Sebastian.  
  
"They'll be checking me out soon.  We can go home after that."   
  
"But _I'm_ driving," Jim chimed in, which got a quick laugh out of everyone.  A short, wide nurse with kind brown eyes and a warm smile came into the room.   
  
"Alright y'all," she had a southern American accent, "We've got all the paper work filled out, you're ready to go home.  You'll have to come back in about three weeks so we can check and make sure your arm is mending properly, Mr. Waters."  
  
"Sounds good," Sebastian nodded.  "Thank you, ma'am."  
  
"My pleasure," she nodded, "I don't think I've taken care of a nicer couple.  Y'all have such nice manners."  She headed towards the door, "Now you folks take care."  
  
"You, too," Jim replied as the woman walked out the door.   
  
With a sigh of relief, Sebastian climbed off the bed.  "You guys ready?  Let's get the hell outta here.  Hate hospitals. . ."


	23. Chapter 23

Two weeks had gone by without any trouble. Richard came over almost every day, and starting December 22 he started staying the night as well. Though the twins looked almost exactly alike, Echo had no trouble telling them apart. It was Christmas Eve when everything started going down hill.

Sebastian and Richard had gone to the store to get some Christmas cookies, ("I don't understand what happened to them all. We had an entire box just yesterday," Jim had mentioned. Meanwhile, Sebastian and Echo had exchanged glances and tried not to laugh.) so it was just Jim and Echo at home. 

They sat together in the recliner, and Echo pressed herself closer to Jim, who wrapped his arms around her as the fire before them blazed. The telly was on, but neither of them were paying attention to it. He was humming Silent Night in her ear; she closed her eyes, beginning to drift off to sleep. 

She could smell his cologne clinging to his ugly Christmas jumper. It was bright red, decorated with Christmas trees, little bells, and pom-poms. Her own was green, and it had Christmas lights wrapped around it. Given two batteries they'd light up. "Merry Christmas, Kitten," he breathed, kissing the top of her head.

"Merry Christmas, daddy." He rocked back and forth in the arm chair as she slowly fell asleep. 

'Have yourself a merry little Christmas," he began singing softly, "Let your heart be light. From now on your troubles will be out of sight. Have yourself," he kissed the top of her head yet again, "a merry little--"

He stop suddenly and jerked his head towards the door when he heard it fling open. He expected Sebastian and Richard to come bustling in, Sebastian upset about something that happened at the store or getting stuck in traffic, but his heart sunk at who entered. How they had found them, he didn't know, and right now he didn't care. 

A swarm of officers came in, weapons aimed at him. Two officers came forward and grabbed Echo by the arms, a bit to rough for Jim's liking. "Careful!" he growled at them. She stirred awake, staring at him before switching her gaze to the officers around the room. 

She jerked her arms away from the policemen, "No, daddy, please don't let them take me away!" she cried, falling onto his chest and wrapping her arms around him, "Please!"

He took her head in his hands and lifted her face up so she was looking at him, "You're going to be alright, Kitten." The same two officers reappeared and grabbed her again, jerking her away. Two more came and pulled Jim out of the armchair. He didn't struggle as they put his wrists in cuffs. "You're going to be alright."

"Somebody get her a blanket!" she heard somebody shout.

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas. I'll see you later; I promise."


End file.
